Sneak Peeks (MLP)
by TightPickle42
Summary: A collection of pages from upcoming stories and previous chapters in stories.


The room was filled with an impenetrable darkness devoid of any light that could pierce its black veil. The darkness did not seem to manifest but was all around you at the same time, encompassing you and enveloping you in its cold, soulless embrace. Making it impossible to depict any features in the room that may assist you in your guidance through this endless night. Forcing artificial light to be the only means of sight in this shadow realm. It is this empty, featureless darkness that strays the mind. Forcing one to believe that there are no walls around them. Allowing them to believe that their next step in this room will lead them to tumble into an endless abyss.

This is a place that, without light, would force almost anypony into a crippling fear, unable to control their deepest primal urges of survival. That is...any normal pony.

In this world, there are not many normal ponies left. A prime example of the opposite of a normal pony is the one that slumbers in the corner of this room softly and without any fears of the shadows that blanket him, the shadows dragging him into the realm of the unseen. This pony is able to avoid these primal fears and urges as he accepts the shadows for what they are. Merely strips of the world left colourless due to an absence of light. They pose no threat to him, he understands this and accepts it. It is what hides inside the shadows that he takes caution towards.

But for now he has no worries for this matter as he knows he is the only predator that lies in this room, waiting for a prey he knows not of yet. He waits still though as he knows there is no such thing as too much caution in this world. And he does not allow death to come to him silently like so many other cowards and fools have allowed. He knows when death comes for him and when it lusts for him to join the void on the other side of reality and life; for a very simple unexplainable reason.

Death comes to him only when he demands it to do so.

Suddenly the room is given life as the pony in the corner slowly stirs himself awake from where he lies resting against the hard dry wall of the room. He keeps his dark grey cloak clinging to his body and its cowl from rising off of his charcoal muzzle through experience as he slowly, and quietly rises from the cold corner. His breathing does not falter from a slumbering pace as he rises, his chest slowly rising and falling underneath his cloak. With a slow ascent, he finally reaches his full height, towering above almost anypony but the tallest. He raises a dark hoof to his cowl, shifting the cloth to allow him a better view to scan his dark surroundings while keeping the cowl effective at the same time, making it impossible to notice the stallion's face.

If one were to peer upon this pony however, they would notice that his appearance would have a very menacing and powerful stance. Striking fear and respect into many that have seen him. That is, one may be able to spot him if there was not already an absence of light to add to his overall dark appearance. Otherwise, any form of shadows could mask his appearance. Allowing him to blend into his surroundings and make hunting that much simpler for him.

It was not his appearance that struck the most fear into others however. It was his reputation, his skill, his...darker personality. These traits have proven to only make him a deadlier hunter in this world as he went day by day. Allowing him the benefit of subduing many of his prey through great ease as they look upon him, falling into lapses of paralysing fear and dread as they understand the plight that has fallen upon them. His mere shadow sometimes throwing prey into a panicked frenzy of fear and remorse. Almost always falling to his hooves and begging for forgiveness, redemption, mercy as he corners them at what is and always will be their last breath in this world.

He had to be this pony...if he wasn't, then he wouldn't be the best at his job. And if he wasn't the best then he would end up dead like so many before him had met their gruesome fate.

Life was not easy upon those who resided in this world.

After scanning the darkness with his keen eyes, he concluded that he could not spot any form of danger in the shadows. However, he knew to confirm his suspicions first before leaving his back to fate. A purple light began to form from underneath his cowl, splaying ribbons of purple light across the room onto the greyish walls. The ribbons cut through most of the darkness in the room, allowing the stallion a closer look at his surroundings. Spotting no immediate dangers, he decided that no hidden hunters lurked in his comfort.

He brought his hoof up to his cowl once again and flipped it down, exposing a middle-aged face to the bright purple light that emanated from his charcoal horn. The horn piercing through his jet black hair, the horns presence separating the zag of white that ran through his entire mane from the other parting of his dark hair. Under the hair lay a pair of cold blue eyes, seeming to be filled with only pain and fury. However, oddly enough, no scars lay upon his face; or his entire body. Despite his dangerous "employment", he has met no damage that was severe enough to leave permanent trauma upon his skin. An oddity when compared to all his peers, who have a scar for almost every encounter they've made.

It mattered not though, for this did not make him worse than those he followed or to those after him st his duty. Everybody recognized him as the best, as the deadliest, as the coldest. Those who challenged him for the rights to the top did not last very long in his presence. Earning him many new titles. None of them making him seem a better pony, of course.

He didn't care for any of this though, he was merely playing the game of survival in this rough world.


End file.
